There are red circles everywhere. In the tomato bowl,

the painting of apples by Chris Linder,

the plums I ended up cutting up and freezing for a winter tart,

and the peaches, unbelievably good peaches, sitting on the sill.

The weather is lovely today but we’ve been having overcast, drizzly days that are really depressing and require big guns to overcome. Big guns like scones. Hot scones with butter. Sometimes also strawberry jam.

My current scone recipe is torn out of an old issue of O magazine and comes from the Harlem Tea Room.

Raisin Scones
makes about 16

1 stick cold butter (8 Tbsp.) cut into pieces
+ extra for baking sheets
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 cup sugar
1 1/4 cups milk + extra for brushing scones
1 cup raisins

Preheat oven to 450F. Coat 2 baking sheets with butter (or I just use parchment paper instead.) Sift flour, sugar, salt, baking powder together in large bowl (or dump in and whisk as I do.) Add butter, using fingertips to combine until mixture takes on texture of fine meal. Stir in raisins. Add milk and stir until flour mixture is just moist and dough begins to stick together. Gather dough into a ball and knead lightly until fully integrated.

Place dough on floured work surface and roll with floured rolling pin (or squash & pat with hands as I do) to 3/4 inch thick. Dip a 2-inch cutter (I use a small drinking glass) into flour and cut out scones as close to one another as possible. Place on prepared sheets, with space in between; let stand 10 minutes.

Brush tops with milk and bake until golden, 10 to 12 minutes. Remove to wire rack to cool.

“Remove to wire rack to cool.” Ha!! Gobble up pipping hot with lashings of butter.

I made the bread twice more. Once with whole wheat, pecans, and cranberries.

Then with sesame seeds scattered on top.

Both filled my chest with a swelling sense of pride in their beauty; for one whole minute before they were demolished by a ravenous horde.

(Can you have a horde of 2? I looked it up and apparently not – you need at least 5 small families, but considering the level of bread consumption I stand by my use of the word.)

Seems like everyone has made no knead bread before me. The original recipe was published in the New York Times a year ago, and then Cook’s Illustrated had to go one further, publishing an “improved” version in their latest magazine: lager and vinegar have been added to improve the flavor, and you knead the bread for 10 seconds. I tried it. Easy peasy. And look!

So very very good, and I made it!
Smugly off to make one with cranberries and pecans next…

I had to take a day of just staring at the wall after making all these in the space of a week. What was I thinking?! Can’t blame the sugar high before the fact.

I’m off to do some wrapping. With “help”.

Have a relaxed next few days!

The insane holiday baking frenzy that always grips me has arrived. First in line – biscotti to send as a gift.

Phase one baking: biscotti loaves. The recipe is from baker extraordinaire Wendy, these here with dried cherries and semi-sweet chocolate.

Phase two. Enough to feed the masses. Or one giant brother.

When I first landed in the US I was very disdainful of iced tea; tea should be hot, and milky, and served at 4pm.

But around the time that I discovered North American summers, I discovered the joys of drinking your tea cold.

Here’s how I make my “special” iced tea:
I take a quart jar and throw in 8 black tea bags, and 6 peppermint tea bags. I fill it about 3/4 full with boiling water and let it sit a while – usually until I wander back into the kitchen and remember that it’s time to scoop out the bags, which I do with a slotted spoon. Then I throw in as many ice cubes as will fit, swirl with the spoon, and I’m good to go.

Put a lot of ice in the glass, this guy’s strong.

One of my favorite recipes is the savory Russian Carrot Pie from Mollie Katzen’s Enchanted Broccoli Forest. (If you make it, try the nut crust with almonds and pecans.)

I like to make two and freeze one for later. If I can keep the tigers at bay…

Someone has eaten all the fabulous butter pecan cookies that Anita baked for my birthday.

I blame this little pig.

He must have flown in the window and scarfed them down.